Anything for Gold
by Cal-Wills
Summary: "But… y-you can't be serious John…" Punk stuttered starting to retreat slowly, John followed like a predator stalking an injured prey. "As a heart attack Punk." Philagan; JoMo/Punk. SLASH. 1/? Maybe three? Hope you enjoy, and please R&R! Feedback is 3
1. Chapter 1

Title: Whore for Gold

Pairing: John Morrison X CM Punk

Rating: NC-18

Summary: Punk wants a shot at the ECW Championship but he lost his LAST chance match. The Champ thinks of one way for Punk to earn a shot. But Can Punk do it?

Warnings: M/M, non con Oral sex, Lang, Attempted Rape. .

Disclaimer- I own nothing.

Cm Punk paced angrily, running his fingers through his onyx locks releasing a sigh as he watched the ECW Champion strut back to his locker room after cutting his promo about how he'd never get another shot at the title. He lost the Last chance ECW title match, Morrison had taken full advantage of a slight distraction to steal the victory, leaving Punk with nothing to show for what he had earned. Morrison smirked at him from across the room as he closed his door. Punk felt shivers shoot down his spine, clenching his fists in frustration. He hated how John got under his skin so easily and quicker then anyone else ever could.

Punk chewed on his bottom lip walking over to John's room, he raised his arm to knock on the door but stopped himself before his knuckles touched the cool steel, he grit his teeth and instead barged in, closing the door behind him. John didn't look fazed as Punk walked up to him seething in rage. "Morrison… you … screwed me last Sunday and you fucking know it… you owe me another shot… you owe me that much…" Punk hissed as John smirked.

"I don't owe you shit Punk. You lost. Regardless of HOW you lost, does not matter, all that does is you… LOST. That's right I BEAT you, Punk…" Morrison smirked as Punk's gaze shot to the floor trying to calm himself. "Listen Morrison… I want another shot! I'll do whatever it takes to get it! I don't care!" Punk hissed looking into John's eyes trying to intimidate him, but failing to do so. John smirked cockily as he pulled his sunglasses off, setting them down next to the ECW title.

"Anything?" He asked cocking an eyebrow. "Yes" Punk hissed starting to calm down. John pursed his lips, nodding his head. "Okay." He leaned in, invading Punk's personal space. "Get on your knees like a good little bitch and suck my cock" he hissed back smirking at the surprise on Punk's face, turn to utter fear and dismay as he realized John was completely serious.

"But… y-you can't be serious John…" Punk stuttered starting to retreat slowly, John followed like a predator stalking an injured prey. "As a heart attack Punk. You want the rematch… I'm gonna make you my bitch… my punk…"he broke off with a self satisfied smirk. "I can't… I won't do it.." Punk whispered as his back made contact with the door.

"Fine. Leave. BUT remember this… You're never getting a shot at that title ever again." John taunted smirk on his lips. "I can't do it…" Punk whispered again as John smirked shrugging his shirt off his shoulders. "But you will… your competitive attitude won't let you pass an opportunity to earn another shot at being the top dog on this show." John continued to taunt as Punk slowly edged back to John, coming to stand in front of him, keeping his gaze on the floor.

"How do I know… after I do this… that you'll keep your word?" Punk asked squeezing his eyes shut as John's hands pushed on his shoulders till he fell to his knees in front of him. "You don't…" John smirked. "Come on… Get to work bitch" John hissed fully enjoying the site of CM Punk on his knees before him. Punk slowly reached forward undoing John's belt and pants, pushing them down enough to free his hardening cock.

"I've… I've never done this …before… I'm not gay" Punk murmured before John rudely cut him off. "Good! Then I'm the first one in your mouth?" John smirked as Punk nodded slowly hoping John would understand what he was asking of him. Leeway. For John to be easy. Gentle. "Great! When I jizz in your mouth you better swallow it all. You better fucking take it all in too." he smirked watching the worry spread in Punk's eyes. Punk took John's cock in his hands uncertainty spread on his face as he tried to force his mouth open, but nothing happened.

John sighed dramatically, reaching down and tangling his hand in Punk's hair, taking his cock in his other hand, yanking Punk's head back; causing him to yelp in pain. The moment his mouth opened, John thrust his hard cock into his once virgin mouth. Punk gagged as John forced him to take it all down. John snapped his hips into Punk's face, making him choke.

"Breathe through your nose bitch." John groaned in pleasure. How long, he had longed for Punk to be here as he was in this very moment, on his knees in front of him, his cock down his throat as he choked on it, tears misting his eyes; it was such a gorgeous picture. "Choke on it bitch!" John hissed fucking Punk's face ruthlessly, while Punk tried desperately to pull away, but John's hands in his hair held him there. "Oh Yeah! Fucking suck it whore!" John growled as Punk squeezed his eyes shut, trying to add suction to get John off faster. John yanked his cock out of Punk's mouth, as Punk's head pressed against John's thigh, coughing and wheezing as sobs escaped his throat.

"Pl-please… John I can't take it…" He sobbed as John smirked. "You don't want the shot fine. But…" He yanked Punk's head back forcing him to meet his eyes. "You're not leaving till you get me off you fucking little tease!" John hissed shoving his cock back in Punk's mouth. "Suck it Slut!" he growled as Punk's eyes started overflowing with unshed tears, and he began to bob his head up and down in what appeared to be his idea of a blowjob.

John smirked keeping a hand on the back of Punk's head, as he felt his orgasm grow closer at seeing Punk's tears. "Fuck so close…" he panted as Punk added suction to his movements. John closed his eyes and let his orgasm take over him, thrusting himself deep in Punk's throat, holding Punk's head there as his body convulsed. He felt Punk start to panic as he thrusted multiple times, milking his orgasm. "Swallow Bitch" he hissed holding Punk's head there with every bit of strength he had, forcing his jizz down Punk's throat. "Swallow it all bitch!" John growled as Punk forced it all to go down.

John sighed pulling his now soft cock from Punk's lips and tucking it back into his black designer pants, as Punk started coughing once again. "Dammit… I thought…" Punk trailed off hands grabbing at his now sore throat. "What?" John asked pushing glorious locks from his face. "I thought I was gonna… never mind" Punk mumbled letting himself fall away from the ECW Champion, hands grabbing his throat as he tried to force the tears back.

John smirked as an idea popped into mind. "Punk… I have a deal for you. You give me something I want… and I'll give you a shot at the ECW Title. No questions asked, and nobody hears about you gurgling my jizz, got it?" he smirked pulling Punk against him, shoving him back onto his black leather sofa, getting on top of him, and pressing him back against it; grinding against the Straight Edge superstar.

"What do you want?" Punk asked fearing that John didn't care what he said, and that he'd do whatever he wanted with him regardless of his answer. "I want this" John murmured as he squeezed Punk's backside. Punk shivered as his eyes met the blue eyes of John. "I'm…a virgin… John I can't give you that part of me, I can't trust you that much. I'm…" John placed a finger over Punk's lips. "I'll go slowly, I'll be gentle, I promise" he murmured kissing Punk's cheek gently. Punk closed his eyes desperately wanting to believe John's words were true, but after what he'd just done it was impossible to believe this man had a loving bone in his body.

"I…I…. can't…" Punk whispered before John's lips covered his in a gentle kiss. "I'll be gentle… I promise… Phil." John murmured trying to put on the mushy act for Punk. "No" Punk whispered trying to push John off him, to no avail. John snapped grabbing Punk's hair and yanking his head back to sneer in his face. "Fine! I'll let you go now… Punk… but after summer slam… if … you… lose… This" John grabbed Phil's ass squeezing it hard making Punk yelp.

"-Is mine! And because you had the choice of me… being easy on you… virgin… Summer Slam night, I'm gonna wear that ECW title around my waist while I deflower you… roughly. I will not be gentle. I will not be loving… I won't care how loud you scream or cry or beg me to stop. Cause I won't. While I do that I want you to remember I was gonna be easy… but you turned it down…" John hissed his blue eyes, turned icy as Phil shivered. "Get out!" John snarled as Phil ran for the door.

After the door slammed John locked it settling back again the leather sofa, shoving his hand into his jeans, stroking his raging hard cock in rough strokes, as he filled his mind with what he'd do to Phil Summer Slam night. 'Philly… you have this coming… In time" John thought closing his eyes, with a smirk on his face. "In Time…"

~ End.


	2. Ch2: For What's to Come

Title: For what's to Come

Pairing: John Morrison X CM Punk

Rating: NC-18

Summary: 2 Weeks before Summer Slam The Guru of greatness finds his summer slam challenger alone in the shower after a show.

Warnings: M/M, non con Hand Job, Lang, Attempted Rape. Forced uhh make out?

Disclaimer- I own nothing.

CM Punk groaned as he walked to the back, he'd been put in a handicap match, with that rouge John Morrison, picking his two opponents, being The Miz, and Big Daddy V. He'd lost after the numbers game caught up with him, Miz distracting him long enough for Big Daddy V to overwhelm him with a crushing body slam, followed by a splash, and it was lights out. When he opened his eyes, John Morrison was smirking down at him, darkness; a sadistic evil gleam in what Punk would once call 'bedroom' eyes.

John held up his ECW title, as Punk had struggled to sit up, finding it nearly impossible to do so, giving up he allowed his battered body to fall back to the matt. John kneeled, getting in Punk's face, yelling that he was worthless, and certainly wasn't worth being the ECW Champion. Before Punk could do anything, Big Daddy V and The Miz , yanked him up off the mat, holding him on his knees in front of John. John smirked dangerously, walking over to stand over Punk, looking down into his terrified blue orbs.

His hands slid through Punk's onyx locks, fisting in it, pushing Punk's face into his chiseled midsection; holding him there. He suddenly yanked Punk's hair, pulling him up to his feet as Miz and Big Daddy continued to hold his arms, rendering him completely useless, but Punk's body hurt so much, he knew deep down even if they weren't holding his arms, he'd still be in this same position.

"You… Useless… worthless… temporary… second rate wanna be gothic… loser… At The Great American Bash… You're not only gonna lose… And I won't just Win, I'm gonna beat you, I'm gonna destroy you… take what I want, then like the garbage you are, toss you in the trash where you belong! I can make you disappear like the fleeting, temporary thought that you are." John hissed in Punk's face. Punk felt tears brimming the surface but angrily forced them back. _Too Late Philly I see those tears. _John thought with a smirk; bring his hand several times across Punk's face.

Finally John grabbed Punk's hair, yanking him out of BDV and Miz's hands, pressing his forehead against Punk's hissing "You little virgin nerd! I'm going to beat and obliterate you…" in Punk's face. "And when I'm done… Nobody will… remember your… name" he whispered, his lips oh so slowly curving into a sadistic smile as those unshed tears of anger returned to his little Punk's eyes. Suddenly he grabbed Punk's head and struck with the Moonlight drive, laughing, grabbing his ECW title, and standing over his challenger, before taking his leave, as his theme blared through out the arena.

Punk stifled a whimper as he forced back the need to curl into a fetal position and cry. He walked to the back with help from two Refs, as the arena emptied out, the fans had gone, the officials, most of the superstars were gone as well. He groaned walking into the shower area, pulling the tape of his wrists and elbow as he walked, tossing it in the trash can. He pulled his kick pads off, unlacing his boots, removing his knee pads, and shoving off his trunks, tossing them into a small pile near his gym bag. He stepped into the shower area, turning on the nozzle he stood under, letting out a quiet moan as the hot water caressed his sore body.

There, he couldn't hold it in anymore; he closed his eyes, allowing his tears to fall silently down his cheeks, not caring because nobody would notice anyways. Every word… the look in John's eyes, he knew it hurt Punk, but he didn't care, he wanted to hurt him, he meant it all too. Punk squeezed his eyes shut as he rested his throbbing head against the shower wall. He had to win at the Bash, he just had to! He couldn't lose his virginity, to a man so full of hate, so full of arrogance, so cocky that he didn't care, it didn't and wouldn't matter to him, that he could possibly be the un-chosen one to take a personal, private, sensitive part of Punk. And John could care less.

He just had to win. He couldn't lose to him, he shuddered at the thought of what John could and would do to him.

John licked his lips watching Punk shower from the locker room. He glanced back, seeing nobody coming, he slyly locked the door, walking into the shower area silently. He watched Punk's shoulders shaking somewhat, and smirked. _So I can get to you… my words alone hurt you so easily... _He sat the ECW title down, watching Punk cry for the time being. His eyes observing what is to be his in less then 2 weeks, when he won, his hand idly stroking his pulsing hard-on. His eyes scanned over Punk's gorgeous backside, thinking _why wait 2 weeks...? _

John growled quietly, slipping his hand inside his pants, fisting his thick mass, stroking it roughly as his thoughts progressed. _Punk is hurt… He can't fight you! You can take him right now! The door is locked… Everyone is almost gone… it isn't like Punk has any friends here… no one will come looking for him and it's not like the straight edge brat parties… so… there's nothing between us, but open air and opportunity. All I have to do is muffle his screams somehow… I'm 100%, he' not. I'm way stronger… maybe I can hold him down or something… _

John's mind was made as he smirked, stalking into the shower area, almost jumping over to Punk, shoving him roughly into the wall, face first, using his body to pin him there. Punk struggled for dear life but god bless the straight edge superstar, he had little to nothing left to fight off John's second assault of the night. "No! …Please" Punk pleaded weakly as John smirked in his face, Punk felt his chest tighten as seeing who his attacker was. "Please!" Punk pleaded again as John's smirk widened. "Beg all you want, it only makes me harder" John whispered huskily in Punk's ear as he pushed his hard bulge against Punk's naked backside.

"No!" he whimpered as John licked his lips, not caring that he was getting completely soaked under the spray of the shower. "Yes!" John hissed grinding his denim covered bulge cruelly against Punk's sensitive skin. "Please… M-Morrison… Don't… I…I… Don't…" Punk whimpered as John smirked darkly. "Why?" he asked enjoying Punk's pain and humiliation.

"Morrison… I'm… I'm begging you…" Punk whispered squeezing his eyes tightly shut as John's hand shoved his head hard against the shower stall and held it there. John used his body weight against Punk, holding him there. He used his free hand to unbuckle his belt, unbutton his white jeans and unzip them; pulling his rock hard, dripping erection out, stroking it a few times as he watched the tears run down Punk's face.

"Morrison… Please! Don't do this! Pl-Please!" Punk sobbed getting panicked as he felt John's cock against his ass. "You, have been, quite a problem for me recently. You know that Punk? But I figured eh… we still have a match at Summer Slam, you still get a 'chance' to win my title. But we both know I'm winning… so what's two weeks?" John smirked, fisting his cock as he shoved his elbow into Punk's lower back, driving the air right out of his lungs.

He grabbed Punk by his hair, and slammed his already throbbing head into the shower wall, Punk crying out before nearly blacking out as his knees buckled. John allowed him to slide to the floor, of course, holding to him, lowering him onto his stomach. Punk annoyed him, he almost hated him, but he didn't want him hurt TOO bad. He DID want a challenge at Summer Slam. After Punk was safely on the floor, John got worried when Punk barely moved, just lied there. He moved to where Punk's head lay, gently, turning him over enough to see his face. Punk had a small cut above his eye, as it seemed John used a little more force then he meant to.

"Punk. Open. Your. Eyes." John ordered as Punk's eyelids fluttered, before opening to see a dazed look in them. John hid his worry with a cocky smirk, as he shoved Punk back on his front, pulling him up to his knees, keeping his face planted to the floor. He slid behind him, shoving his jeans down to his thighs; he pulled a small tube of lube out of his pocket. He popped the cap squirting a small amount into his palm, quickly covering his middle finger, and spreading the rest on Punk's virginal opening. Punk whimpered as tears slide down his cheeks, feeling no energy, no strength to fight John off. He was gonna get raped in a area shower. That's his first time. His special time.

John stroked his cock roughly, getting harder by the minute as he heard Punk's whimpering cries. He grabbed his cock, pushing the head against Punk's entrance, pushing hard. Punk sobbed as John rubbed his thick cock between his cheeks, occasionally pushing the head against Punk's entrance. John teased entrance several times, loving Punk's cries, and feeble attempts to fight back. It just turned him on more. "That's it Punky… go on and fight me… I'll just hurt you even worse then you already are, and… it turns me on more…" John groaned finally moving his cock away, and thrusting his middle finger, inside of Punk.

Punk screamed with every last bit of energy that he had, screaming till his voice gave out and he could scream no more. John forced a second finger in, thrusting them as far as they'd go as he clamped his hand over Punk's mouth, quickly silencing him. Punk continued to scream even though no one could hear him, and he had no voice left.

"You think this hurts?" John asked as Punk nodded tears of pain, and humiliation cascading down his face, causing John's cock to twitch. "Then there's no way in hell… in hell, you'll be able to handle taking my cock…"John chuckled. Punk squeezed his eyes tightly shut as John withdrew his fingers, holding them up to get rinsed by the shower head. He turned Punk over on his back to see his teary blue eyes, begging him to stop. John smirked getting an idea, as his hand found Punk's semi erect cock. "Ah… So you get off on Pain then?" John smirked. "Freak".

He started stroking Punk's cock, as Punk put up another fight, but John was still stronger. He stroked Punk to complete hardness, grabbing his hair and kissing him roughly on the lips, shoving his tongue in Punk's mouth. Punk whined trying to get free, to no avail. He kissed Punk, rubbing his tongue against Punk's, grinding his hips into Punk's, as he grabbed his own cock, holding them together, beginning to thrust against Punks. Punk let out a raspy chocked back moan, bring a smirk of triumph to John's face. He was making Punk LIKE it. _He's gonna like whether HE likes it or not!_ John thought smirking.

He tightened his grip, thrusting harder, and faster against Punk's cock, when suddenly, Punk's head flew back into the floor, his body tightening up like vice, convulsing against John's, his eyes rolling back, mouth dropping open, teeth clenched as he uttered a line of curses in a low raspy voice. "Damn you" he hissed as he came, shooting his load all over his own chest and stomach. John smirked, as he continued to thrust himself against Punk's now softening member, releasing his seed all over himself and Punk.

He allowed himself a few minutes to catch his breath and collect himself, before leaning down, he stuck his tongue out and drug it down Punk's chest, tasting him. "You taste good Punk." John smirked snobbishly, licking Punk clean, before fisting his hand in Punk's hair. "Clean me the fuck up Slut." he hissed as Punk hesitantly obeyed. "How do I taste?" John asked smirking as Punk looked away.

"Ah… you liked it… huh?" he chuckled as Punk looked down, tears of shame rolling down his cheeks, John laughing sinisterly before standing up. He pulled his soaked jeans up, buttoning, zipping, and fixing his belt, as he walked over to Punk, gripping his chin roughly. "See you… at Summer Slam… Punk." He laughed as he picked up the ECW title, unlocked the door, and walked out, leaving in his wake, a broken, injured, CM Punk. Punk pulled his knees up to his chest, hugging them. He couldn't wait for Summer Slam to be done and over with, he could only pray that he has enough in the tank, to beat John Morrison. But he couldn't help wondering if, getting another shot, was worth all this. Punk was beginning to wonder if he'd made a mistake in taking John's offer.

If he wasn't safe before Summer Slam… what made him think John would stop after Summer Slam? John Morrison was unpredictable, untrustworthy and sadistic. So would John still… if … Punk won? Time would tell. For now, Punk would just have to be a little more careful when at the arena, or house shows.


	3. Ch3: Saved by the Enemy

Title: WFG: Ch.3 My Selfish… Savior?

Pairing: John Morrison X CM Punk

Rating: NC-18

Summary: Takes place after Punk is left alone in the locker room. John just won't leave him alone, is there more in it for John then just sex?

Warnings: M/M, Lang, Drugging a SxE, abduction, Stalking, assholesishness :D.

Disclaimer- I own nothing.

Punk forced himself to move his battered body off the shower floor, moving further under the now, cold spray of the shower head, Punk let out a whimpered cry. He forced himself to stand still, allowing the water to wash away the evidence of what had just happened. His head was throbbing, but at least the wound wasn't bleeding so badly, although his vision was blurry. So blurry, he could hardly see straight, he was seeing double, the room was spinning around him, it got faster and faster until, Punk collapsed, completely unconscious as his head smacked the floor, the 3rd time since his match.

John watched Punk try to get up, finally succeeding in doing so, as he stood under the shower head. Punk's legs wobbled before a few seconds later, he just dropped. Hitting the shower floor, head making a sickening "SMACK!" and that was it. He didn't move at all. John's breath hitched in worry as he rushed from his hiding place to Punk's side, gently touching his neck, feeling for his pulse. He sighed in relief as he felt a rapid beat against his fingers, very gently, unlike minutes ago, he scooped Punk's naked form into his arms, cradling him bridal style as he carried him to the bench, laying him next to it.

He walked back into the showers, turning them off as he hurried back to Punk. He'd stayed to spy to make sure he wasn't too badly hurt, and it was a good thing he had, who knows what could've happened if he hadn't. John shivered but he didn't know if it was from the thought of serious harm coming to his Punk, or the fact that he was still in his wet jeans that were now cold. He glanced at Punk seeing him shiver slightly in his unconscious state.

John paced slightly, before coming up with a plan to take Punk to his room. But what would his room mate think? John shook his head, grabbing a towel, he covered Punk up before he rushed out the door to his locker room grabbing his belongings; he made a dash back to the showers. He quickly changed from his drenched clothing into something dry, throwing the wet ones in his gym bag; along with the ECW title. He made quick judgments deciding he may not be able to carry his bags, Punk's and the Straight Edge Superstar. Punk had no clothes sitting out, so John dug through his own bag, pulling out a John Morrison T-shirt, and found a pair of boxers in Punk's bag. He decided he wanted Punk half dressed so if he did come to, he couldn't go far. John smirked grabbing his bags, and Punk's as he carried them to his rental, shoving them in the trunk. He ran back inside the arena, rushing to the showers. He maneuvered Phil, getting the boxers on him, and pulling the shirt over his head, before picking him back up, and carrying him quickly, unnoticed out of the arena.

He struggled to open the back door, sliding Phil inside, laying him down so he could rest. John smirked, opening the driver door, starting up the car, putting his seat belt on, he slipped his shades over his eyes, despite the darkness surrounding them, and drove off into the night.

"What the!" Phil sat up quickly out of bed, staring wide eyed around the unfamiliar room. He was alarmed, turning his head looking around frantically trying to place how he got there, when he felt a very unpleasant throbbing in his head, it was nearly unbearable as his hands covered his head. "Oh god! … Help … please?" he whimpered, the pain the worst he'd experienced in awhile. Nothing was making sense, his head was killing him and he didn't know where he was. "You're safe." An all too familiar voice murmured nonchalantly as Punk whipped his head to see John Morrison, another whimper escaping his throat. "No… Please…I…i-I"

"Save your breath Punkie, I'm not gonna rape you. Yet. Or hurt you in anyway. Yet. You passed out. Hit your head one the shower floor. Lucky I was there to rescue my little Straight Edge Princess" John smirked as though it were the most humorous thing ever, before he turned serious. "I tended your wound. As for your pain I picked up some pain medicat-". "No! I'm okay. Tha-Thank you Morrison. But I think I can-"

"No. You're staying with me" John snapped with a smirk as he stared at Punk's chest. "Fitting if I do say so myself". Punk stared down realizing he was wearing a Morrison T-shirt. "Lay down" John growled lying next to Phil, slipping an arm over him possessively. "Mine".

"None of this makes any sense…" Phil whimpered coving his head with his hands. "Hurts… so bad…" he whimpered out as John leaned up on his elbow. "Want some water?" he asked seemly uninterested in getting him anything at all. "Please?'" Phil whimpered, hating himself for showing weakness in front of his enemy. John sighed dramatically, slipping out of bed, walking towards the bathroom as Phil buried his face in the pillows. "Don't you fucking move either!" John warned, hissing as he disappeared into the bathroom, smirk on his face. He grabbed a paper cup provided by the hotel, opening his bag, he pulled out the pain killers. Turning the water on to cover the noises, he twisted the cap, taking two into palm. He lay them on the countertop, using the bottle to mash them into power.

He grabbed the cup, holding it under the faucet, putting a half a cup of water in it, whipping the power into the water; he stirred it with a coffee stir, before walking back into the bedroom with a smirk. "Here. Sit up." John snapped as Phil let out a cute sounding whimper, quickly sitting up, as John moved to sit beside him. "Open" John murmured narrowing his blue orbs in concentration as he forced Phil to drink while he held the cup. "Drink it all" he ordered as Phil thirstily slurped down the water. John smirked setting the cup aside. "There… That wasn't so hard now was it?"

"What?" Phil rasped as John pulled Phil flush against him. John smirked. "Taking your medication, it should kick in, in a few minutes by the way. There's codeine in it. So you'll feel sleepy." Phil sat up glaring at John in shock. "You fiend! You drugged me! How fucking could you Morrison? You're a fucking Monster! You may as well pour beer in that! I can't believe th- Well I suppose I should've expected this out the likes of you! You bastard!" Phil yelled in shock. John lay there smirking as Phil went on, until Phil climbed out of bed, his legs still asleep as he collapsed on the floor. "Whoa… you okay Princess?" John asked leaning over to look down at him. Phil snarled. "Fuck you! I'm leaving!"

"With no pants and relatively no … clothing… in one of my t-shirts? I think not. Vinnie Mac would can your ass for sure!" John clicked his tongue with a self satisfied smirk, as Phil glanced down, realizing he was only wearing boxers and a JoMo tee. He glanced at John shocked. "Where's … my … stuff?" He growled making John chuckle. "Hidden. Punkie… I can keep you with me for as long as I like. I have you under my thumb. You will be mine… as if you already aren't yet…" John chuckled as Phil glared opening his mouth to reply before someone barged in the bedroom.

"Hey! I told you, you can keep your slutty whore here as long as you keep it down" Mike 'The Miz" yelled as John climbed off the bed, pulling Punk off the floor. "I'm…I'm… I'm not a slutty Who-" Phil started but John's hand clamped firmly over his mouth, cutting him off. "Sure Mike. He'll be out in a bit… Just took his Meds." John smirked making Phil's eyes water in angry tears. "Ha dude I think your hoe's about to cry" Mike laughed as John used his strength over Punk to force his head up. "Hmmp… Maybe. We'll keep it down" John promised forcing a smirk as Mike shrugged before leaving.

John waited till Mike was gone before he forced Phil back on the bed. "Crying? Wow Punkie never knew you to be soooo sensitive. So CM Punk is EEEEMMMMOOOO…. That's really… really cuuuute… you know that?" John teased with smirk before forcing Phil under the covers, joining him, and pulling the Straight Edge superstar flush against his chest. Phil squeezed his eyes tightly shut, not wanting to be there. "I… hate you John… I really do…" Phil whispered helplessly as tears trickled down his cheeks.

"So does everyone… get in line…You don't matter Phil." John whispered hotly in Phil's ear, making more tears come to the surface. "Then just let me go… please…" he sobbed as John's arms slid around him as though in comfort, but to Phil, it was only mockery. "You hold me like a lover… but you whisper such cruel words in my ear… Why? Why do you hate me so much… that you want me to suffer, why do you want me? But despise me all the same?" Phil whispered, eyes clenched shut as John pursed his lips in thought. "Because Philly. If you want to be a whore I want it first. And when I beat you, I'll get it." John whispered lips curving into a cruel smile. "Then why not leave me to… to rot on that locker room. World would probably be a better… a better place… with … without me… prolly be better… if I never woke… up… ever … again… an… endless sleep. Never… to see the world again…. Them never to see me. Eyes…" Phil's eyes were drooping as obviously the codeine starting to take effect. "…close my eyes… for a final… time…" Phil's voice got softer, as did John's facial features. "If… you hate me… why not?" Phil questioned tiredly. John sighed putting the façade on again. "To protect my investment. This." He fondled Phil's ass right before Phil passed out. Silently snoring in deeply slumber as John's facial feature softened, and his arms tightened, holding the Straight Edge superstar tightly, protectively against his body. Summerslam was two weeks away.

John knew he was gonna win, and finally get Phil's ass. It wasn't about the ECW title to John, although it was nice having it. It had always been about Phil. And he was about to permanently make Phil his, once and for all.

Summer Slam was a week away as Phil prepared himself both Physically and mentally for it. Knowing what is at stake if he were to lose. He just couldn't lose to Morrison. Morrison would tear him up for sure, if the forced Blowjob was any indication of John's massive length, then Phil was in for a world of hurt if he were to lose. Not to mention if he lost, he'd be forced to sleep with not only the enemy, but a cold, calculating bastard at that. Phil raked his fingers through his hair as he popped his ear buds in, turning his Ipod up as he began jogging on the treadmill trying to erase John from his mind for the time being so that he may get in a good work out.

After a good 15 minutes of running Phil was feeling watched, as he opened his eyes, stopped the treadmill and turned to see, that in fact he was. By one horny looking John Morrison. He looked around realizing with dread, that they were alone in the gym. 'Shit'. Phil thought biting his bottom lip hard as John walked towards him smirking arrogantly. "Hey Phil"

"Morrison". Phil muttered as John smirk widened if that were possible. "One week. Till you're mine'" John grinned making Phil feel uneasy. "One week till… I win the ECW Championship. " Phil declared back as John smirked wiggling his eyes brows. "we'll see Phillikins… We'll see." John smirked as Phil stormed off. Why chase after him? He was already going to win. 'Piece of Philliy Cheese Cake' John thought with a smirk as he watched Phil's booty sway, knowing it was only a matter of time. Phil would be his, for one night.

End Chapter 3


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